An Unholy Mess
by X5thAvenueX
Summary: And you'll have more regrets than heartbeats; a routine case rotated through one hundred and eighty degrees.
1. Chapter 1

**An Unholy Mess** - And you'll have more regrets than heartbeats; a routine case rotated through one hundred and eighty degrees.

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS.

Warning: Character death.

Thought I'd try something with a bit more of a plot, as I usually write short one-shots.

Takes place any time before Somalia, I think. And probably before Rivkin and Jeanne.

_And you learned to kill before you ever learned to walk._

* * *

Tony and Ziva are flirting when McGee arrives in the morning, bickering when Gibbs leaves for coffee, and back to flirting when he returns.

He sighs; because the bullpen is too small for both of them, because the case is not even starting to crack, because his head is beginning to ache.

A dead petty officer - which he's sure must once have been original - and no suspects, little forensic evidence, no leads.

When Abby calls he gladly leaves McGee running the victim's phone records, and Tony and Ziva calling anyone she ever knew.

He returns, however, to hear Ziva laughing quietly and Tony calling "Whatcha doin McProbie?" whilst throwing balled up paper at a scowling McGee.

Kate once said she did not get paid enough, and on days like these he knows exactly what she meant.

"DiNozzo" he barks - hand connecting with head - and doesn't give him a chance to stutter out an excuse.

"Abby has a partial print and a possible suspect, Eric Messer, go pick him up"

He hands him the address.

"Take Ziva"

_McGee looks relieved when you don't hesitate in sending them, and in the hours, days, and weeks to come you wish like hell you had._

Gibbs shakes his head as Ziva snatches the keys off Tony, and he growls, chasing her to the elevator and muttering something about not wanting to ruin these shoes too.

_You never do hear who wins, and you'll imagine it is them both in turns, depending on your mood and who you are most worried for at any given moment._

* * *

_Rule twelve, you remind yourself, and soon that will lose all meaning._

* * *

They exit the car at the warehouse where Messer is supposed to work thirty minutes later.

"It looks pretty desert-ed" Ziva remarks, and Tony rolls his eyes.

"I think you mean deserted, Zee-vah"

"Well, there are no people in the desert, are there?"

She gives him a look that may be triumphant and may be something else entirely, and he definitely does not watch her as she walks ahead of him.

_There's a feeling you get when you look at her sometimes. It is new, yet the edges are frayed and worn and it always opens at just the right place. _

They enter the warehouse with guns drawn, and it is all empty spaces and echoing walls.

"Maybe he moved his business?" Ziva suggests, and Tony shrugs.

There is a noise, and they both freeze, scanning the darkness with cautious eyes and beams of light from their torches.

They communicate with their hands; each going in separate directions, moving deeper into the warehouse.

Tony follows the corridor leading off from the left, and finds nothing.

"Clear"

He makes his way back to where they started.

Ziva is not there, and she still has not yelled clear.

_Oh shit, you think. Shit-shit-shit._

He heads to the right, picking up his pace, fear beginning to cloud his judgement and he is not as silent as he probably should be.

_You tell yourself that this is the job and she is far from helpless and there have been far worse situations than this. You will very soon be proved entirely wrong._

He stops when he sees them, at the end of the corridor. Ziva - standing ramrod straight, eyes wide with surprise because no one sneaks up on her - and the guy holding a gun against her temple with the hand that isn't wrapped around her arm.

Her own gun is in his waistband.

_In the back of your mind you wonder just how he got it. Make your move, or she's dead, and then where does that leave you?_

"Alright -"

_You start operation talk-the-guy-who-you-can-only-assume-is-Messer-out-of-putting-a-bullet-in-her-brain, but don't get far._

"Put down your gun, or I shoot her"

_Your heart slows down, speeds up, thuds louder than you think it should be. You lower your weapon. She seems almost annoyed with you._

"Okay, take it easy, you- "

It seems like he is never finishing his sentences these days, as the next thing he hears is a shout from Ziva - "Tony, look out!" - and then the crack of a gun against his skull.

_You think, as her face fades to black, that her accent is thicker when she is afraid. You think that you like it._

_You do not see, but she does not go down as easy; kicking and screaming even though there are now three guys, all with guns, and bigger than her. She goes down with a fight in every sense of the word. She never stood a chance, but she tried anyway - for you more than for her - and you wish you could say it wasn't in vein._

* * *

Abby is showing Gibbs and McGee the evidence - or the lack of - when Gibbs feels it in his gut.

Not cold, or dread, or hairs rising, or skin prickling, just a familiar sensation that something is not quite right.

_He'll never tell you this, because he wouldn't be able to tell you why he ignored it. He is never really sure. He still blames himself, you know, even if you don't._

The two of them head down to autopsy where Ducky confirms what they already know; a simple gunshot wound.

_You don't yet know how lucky she was. Your watch says 11.34. and this is when Ziva threw the first punch. Ducky is sewing up the y-cut, Abby is happily sipping a Caf-Pow, and you and Gibbs are in the elevator by the time she is unconscious too. _

* * *

Gibbs sends McGee to buy lunch whilst he leaves a short, barking, voice mail on both their phones; but he is not so much worried as pissed.

_McGee will never tell you how ashamed he is that he did not notice their absence for quite some time._

At one Gibbs' annoyance shifts to worry.

Two hours is too long to pick up a suspect, even by DiNozzo's time keeping.

And then Abby can't get a trace on their phones.

_And to think at the time you were angry with them for breaking rule three._

* * *

_Hindsight is beautiful, as are scripted words and carefully learned rules, and so later, when McGee tells you that the whole day felt like the day Kate died, and he should have said something, you try your very hardest not to hit him._

Please review, will try to update soon. Will be more TIVA in later chapters!


	2. Chapter 2

Thanks to everyone who read the last chapter, reviewed it (although I do try to thank people individually for reviews), added it to story alert, or added it to favourites.

* * *

___And you wake in a cold sweat once again, dialling his number with shaking fingers. Ring (It's okay). Ring (He's still here). Ring (You're alright). You hang up before he answers and you know he knows it's you._

_---------__---------__---------_

_You feel concrete under your back, and open your eyes to see a bare bulb swinging above you, like a prop from one of Tony's bad horror films._

_Tony._

"Tony?"

Ziva pushes herself into a sitting position and scans the cell-like room she is currently in the middle of. Tony is crumpled against one of the walls, unconscious still and head still bleeding.

She scrambles to him, shakes his shoulder, repeats his name. She relaxes when he blinks himself awake, a sense of security - although she knows it is false- edging through her.

_You tell yourself you shouldn't feel safe just cause he's here. He's no god, just Tony. You tell yourself that's more than enough._

"You okay?" he mumbles, when his eyes finally focus on her.

"Yes" she is inspecting his head with gentle fingers, but when she pulls back he can see the dark clouding on her delicate cheek; covering her skin like a poison and he wants to kill them even now.

_This feeling can only increase._

"You may have a slight concussion, but I think you will be fine"

She interrupts his thoughts with a soft voice, and he misses the snug pressure of her hands.

"What happened?" he asks, moving so he is sitting with his back against the wall, and she takes a seat next to him, shrugging.

"Knocked out at the warehouse, woke up here. I do not know how we got here, but it is definitely not the same warehouse."

"How do you know? Looks pretty damn similar to me"

She sighs in frustration "I can just tell"

"Oh right, sorry, forgot about the ninja skills and everything" he mutters, leaning his head against the cold wall and closing his eyes.

She rolls hers, then scans the room to find nothing but two chairs bolted to the floor in the centre and a clock on the wall telling her an hour has passed. No windows and only one door which appears to be locked; things are not looking good already.

In the dim lighting it all strikes her as ridiculously clichéd.

She gets up to try the door anyway, and when it remains shut she hits it with a balled up fist and shouts something in Hebrew.

She begins to pace the room, eyes jumpy and flexing her fingers. He knows she is nervous, can tell by the subtle movements she thinks that no one notices.

_Oh, you always notice._

Her back is straight, her jaw stiff, her eyes narrow and darker somehow. Anybody else may mistake this for fear, but he knows better.

Sometimes he thinks she is permanently like this; always running from an unseen enemy that she seems so sure will defeat her. It makes him want to jump in front of her, to stop her, to kiss her till her fingers uncurl and her eyes soften and to hold her till she begins to melt; warm and melding into him.

"Ziva" She ignores him.

"Zee" she turns, and an almost amused look takes over her face at the shortened version of her name.

"What?"

"Calm down, sit down" _"I won't let them hurt you. We're gonna be okay. You're scaring me by being scared."_

She looks at him with heavy eyes -_heavyheart-heavymind-heavybody_- but relents.

"Gibbs is gonna kill us" Tony grumbles when she returns to sit next to him.

"Yes" she agrees.

"So, what now?" Even to him it sounds like he is looking to her for guidance, but right now his head hurts too much to care.

_And everything seems to be swirling. And all you can do is cling to her._

"We wait for Gibbs to find us?" She did not mean for it to sound so much like a question.

_At this point it hasn't even occurred to you that he may not._

_---------__---------__---------_

_And you're begging them to stop before they've even started._

_---------__---------__---------_

They both leap to their feat as the door is opened and the three men enter.

_Smirks on their faces and guns on their hips, you hate them already._

_You notice that one of them is limping slightly, another has a black eye, the third red scratches trailing down his cheek. Pride swells up from somewhere deep inside you. That's my girl, you think, and wonder when you began to associate that particular pronoun with her._

They don't speak, but one reaches to grab Ziva and Tony lashes out without even thinking. He punches the guy, once, hard.

"Get your hands off her"

And then all hell breaks loose.

_Maybe it would have been better if you'd have just stayed quiet. Three against two, and these guys are big. Big-big-big. Now where have you said that before? Although last time you were armed with a gun. Last time you knew where you were. Last time Ziva wasn't there to get hurt._

The one that Tony hit swings back at him, and this time Ziva intercepts. With her knife they never found to take.

Somewhere in the struggle they get it off her - although she manages to do some damage with it first - and things get even worse.

Tony sees one of them cut her with it - sees her blood - and panics. The next few minutes is just swinging fists and kicking and anything and everything - Ziva doing the same - and then, again, darkness.

__

_---------__------_

Eyes that meet in bathroom mirrors and are forced apart by the sliding of metal doors.

---------------

Ziva wakes to the sound of Tony hissing her name.

She finds she is chained to one of the chairs, Tony in the one opposite her. The men appear to have left.

_And when you squint, he looks like love. The kind you read about and the kind that burns and soothes all at once._

"You alright?" He is eyeing her arm worriedly, and she glances at it. It is shallow and she can barely feel it.

_Or is that due to this numbing trepidation you're definitely not feeling?_

"Fine. You should not have done that."

And there it is again; that skewed idea of retribution, that she is not worthy. It's the edges of her smirk when she's throwing his insults back or the tone of her voice at times like this that tell of the way she is familiar only with the things she'd rather not be.

"Oh, yeah, and you wouldn't have?"

_Oh you would have. If they'd have gone for him, you would have._

She sighs, squirms against the bonds which will not break, until the door opens and one of the men enters. He pushes a table on wheels, and they both stiffen when they see what is on it.

_Soon you will wonder when exactly this became routine._

She searches desperately for his eyes, longing for the aforementioned feeling of safety, no matter how false.

He meets her gaze, holds it as their eyes lock with a known click, words flowing silently between them.

_And their chairs seem closer together, somehow._

* * *

I know there are probably quite a lot of Tony-Ziva-kidnap-etc plots already, but hopefully this isn't _too_ clichéd and the ending should be a little different than expected (well, maybe, depending on what you expect). So please review and let me know what you think!


	3. Chapter 3

Thanks again for reading, reviewing, etc!

Oh, and I used a quote from the show in the last paragraph (I'm sure you will recognise it) (Well, may not be an exact quote but very close!)

* * *

_Close your eyes and imagine you are somewhere else. You are lying with her on a beach, chasing her through the snow. Tell yourself that this could happen, that she could lie golden and melting next to you, sipping soda with soft lips, or run and laugh till her cheeks are tinted pink, dodging snowflakes and sliding on ice. Tell yourself that it's real. Tell yourself that you deserve it. Tell yourself that you aren't afraid._

---------------

Gibbs and McGee find their abandoned car and later they all watch - through garbled security footage - as Tony and Ziva are dragged from the warehouse into the trunk of another car.

_The tape is too damaged to get a license plate or a face, and you never do forgive yourself for that._

Gibbs leaves Abby with the evidence collected from the scene. Leaves her with samples of blood that they all know belong to Tony and Ziva but which she will test anyway with disordered feelings of hope.

___Blood and dirt in evidence bags. This can't be all that is left, you think._

---------------

_And you've been calling her name before you ever learned to talk._

---------------

Face to face, allies and enemies, friends and lovers. Metal and wood and overwhelming fear that neither will show.

He picks up a knife - Ziva's knife, oh, the irony - and moves towards her.

"Stop!" Tony shouts, voice sounding more desperate than he intended.

_You and Gibbs are going to have to have a little chat about rule nine when this is over._

"What do you want?" _"You can have anything. You can have it all. You can't have her"_

"Nothing"

_Oh... oh fuck._

He wants to shut his eyes, but can't bear the thought of leaving her alone in this.

Her blood is too red, her lips too tight, her eyes too open. They are imploring, but not pleading. Never pleading. Never her. Never him.

She doesn't scream, but looks at him the whole time. Looks at him like if she stares hard enough something may change, or maybe like she's looking past the skin and bones at something else entirely. He watches as she bites her lip so hard a small trickle of blood drifts down her chin, and his hands twitch with the urge to wipe it away.

He long ago gave up on asking the man why, begging him to stop, to hurt him instead, and she gave up on telling him to shut up even earlier. Now he just watches, as the chains dig into his wrists and her shadow shrinks opposite him.

_Don't worry, you'll get your turn with the knife, and she'll beg just as hard._

And later it is a lighter and a whip and a bucket of icy water, and the entire time there is ticking in her head and screams in his. It may just be vice versa.

He finally unlocks the chains, and Tony staggers to his feet, dripping blood, ready to play the hero; kill the jackass and sweep her up and kiss her back to before.

_And he merely points a gun at her head. And you merely watch him leave the room._

And she still looks perfect, even now. Swimming in blood and salt and agonizing bravery.

And the door shuts with a bang.

---------------

When Gibbs comes back to Abby's lab she stops what she is doing to look at him with eyes that say she's worried as hell, and lips that say "It's theirs, Gibbs"

_You don't know and never will but at the exact moment that you tell her it will be okay; kiss her cheek and promise you will get them back, the man has just finished with Ziva and is turning to Tony. And she is pleading now, and he is bleeding now, and maybe they're both praying._

---------------

They are sitting quietly now, next to each other on the floor with aching backs not quite touching the wall. After checking neither of them were in any immediate danger from any injuries, they realised there really was nothing else they could do but sit. And so they did.

She glances at him, looks away. There's a kind of tension, a nervous energy between them, coupled with a lazy sense of shock at what just happened.

_You didn't expect him to scream, but were still surprisingly proud when he didn't._

"I do not understand"

She breaks the silence and he turns his head towards her.

"They did not ask anything... they did not seem to want anything. So, why not just kill us? Why... do that?"

He shrugs "Some people are just sick, I guess. Never seen a horror film before? Take 'Hostel', put me off travelling for life"

She ignores the movie comment, but is actually grateful for it. She misses normalcy, and it has only been a few hours.

"But the whole point of inflicting pain is to get something from it! To extract information! Believe me, I know-"

"Or revenge"

She stops "True. But we do not know them. What could they be getting revenge for? And if it was a case we had worked, then would they not be trying to get us to reopen it?"

"I don't know. Why did they shoot the petty officer?"

She sighs; frustrated, defeated.

_You would have never have told them anything, but it would have been nice to have had the option._

A few more minutes of silence, which he breaks this time.

"I'm sorry"

"Why are _you_ sorry?!" she asks incredulously.

"I dunno.. I should have done something, I guess"

_I shouldn't have let them touch you. Let anyone touch you. Not like that._

"Oh I see. You are being... ah, what is the word? I am the helpless woman and you are the strong man going to save me, yes?"

"Chivalrous?" he supplies.

"No, I was thinking more chauvinistic"

He grins, and there is something in her eyes that he didn't realise he was missing till now. She is baiting him, because they both need this.

"So, you are saying I am helpless? That _I_ need _you_ to rescue me? Just because I am female?"

He bites back a laugh. "Wouldn't exactly say that"

He knows she doesn't need protecting, but that doesn't stop him from _wanting_ to protect her.

_And it pains you, not only that you can't, but that she doesn't expect it and maybe doesn't even want it. Help to her is like an apology to Gibbs; a sign of weakness._

They have lapsed into silence again, but it's comfortable now.

Tony is ripping bits from a piece of paper he found on the floor, balling them up and tossing them at her.

She frowns, looks with annoyance.

"Sometimes it makes you smile" he offers with a sheepish shrug, discarding the rest of the paper.

"Sometimes it makes me want to kill you" But her eyes are light, her tone teasing.

_And, later, when you're both back on the chairs and her eyes are wide but blank - refusing to show fear and not as comforting as it should be - you'll be wishing for that off button you can never seem to find._

_And then she'll be watching with eyes that say no no no, and lips that never speak._

_And she won't argue next time, when you half heartedly begin to tear the paper._

* * *

Please leave a review! Next chapter should be up soon.


	4. Chapter 4

Thanks for reading/reviewing/etc the last chapter, this one is a bit shorter than the others.

* * *

"I've got nothing"

"No leads yet boss"

"Gibbs, it's like they just vanished!"

"I'm sorry, Jethro"

_They've been gone for four days now. You know the statistics like you know the barrel of a gun or the rocking of a boat. And you are trying oh so desperately to forget._

---------------

"We need a plan" she announces once they are left alone again.

"Thank god you're here" he mumbles, moving from the chair to sit against the wall, wincing as he does.

_You remind yourself you shouldn't be taking this out on her. Through the aching of your bones you cannot hear it._

She ignores him, rising to pace despite protests from her body.

"We need to get out" She eyes the ceiling, the floor, the walls, the door.

"Tony! Will you stop just sitting there and do something!"

"What? Pace the room and shout? Cause it seems to be working out great for you."

"Fine, okay, we will just wait for them to come back then."

"Gibbs will find us"

_And then she says what you never will._

"And if he does not?"

_You don't have an answer for that, it seems._

"Oh god"

She runs a hand through her hair.

"We are just gonna wait here like sitting geese and-"

"Ducks"

"What?"

"It's sitting ducks, Ziva, not geese. Ducks, okay? Fucking ducks!"

He rises.

"I don't know what you want me to do here. We're both stuck, okay, and we might not be if that guy hadn't got your gun at the warehouse -"

_And then you stop, realise what you've said, what you've done, about thirty seconds too late. She opens her mouth to reply, and you don't think you could feel any worse whatever she says, but then she shuts it, and says nothing, and you are proved wrong._

"Zee" his eyes retreat, anger gone, and he feels lost, the cell suddenly far too big.

"It is fine. You are right"

She goes to turn away, and he can see it in her eyes again. He takes his chances and catches her arm, surprised when she doesn't pull away.

"I'm sorry. I didn't mean it. You know I didn't. I wanna get out of here too, but we gotta trust Gibbs"

_Nothing else we can do._

She looks at the floor, nods.

"I am sorry, too"

There is no one to tell them to stop being weak.

And then he _really_ takes his chances and gently tugs her into him. She stiffens; he counts the seconds with baited breath. Then unusually timid arms wrap around him and hug gently back. He pulls her closer, breathing her in.

Beneath the copper she smells so distinctly _Ziva_ that it makes him shiver; a scent that isn't a flower or food but more of a feeling. Of sun spreading on his skin and rain cascading down. Of being so elated it hurts, or the other way around.

He hears the creaking of the door long before it opens.

_And everything is black-and-white except the red of her blood and the brown of her eyes._

* * *

I'm not really sure about this chapter (hope they're not too ooc or anything). Please review!


	5. Chapter 5

Thanks for reading, reviewing etc.

* * *

Six eyes stare back at him from the screen.

Three men. Three men and fifteen dead bodies.

Fourteen tortured and mutilated, one shot because she put up too much of a fight when they tried to take her.

And, oh, yeah, two missing agents.

_Fuck._

McGee and Abby are silent on either side of him. He doesn't need to look to know his face is white and hers is dripping black.

_You swallow. Okay._

"This is good"

Abby makes a strangled, shocked sound in the back of her throat. McGee stays silent.

"Now we know exactly who has them. Now we know who we're dealing with"

_Now we just gotta find them._

---------------

_And you're listening so hard that all you can hear is silence._

---------------

The man has gone now, and they are left aching and crumpled, dispersed on the floor.

He groans, rolls over, groans again. Wipes the blood from his face with an even bloodier hand.

"Ziva?"

"Umhmm"

She sounds barely conscious, and it is enough to rouse him properly. He sits up, turns towards her form.

"Zee, you okay?"

A pause. Too long, almost. And then a fluttering voice.

"Yes. Are you?"

He winces as he stands. "Yeah"

He takes the few steps to her, then shakily drops down beside her.

She blinks up at him with tired eyes - _pretty eyes - angry eyes - loving in another time and another place eyes_ - and struggles to sit.

He gently helps her up, eyes scanning her worriedly.

Her skin is so pale it seems to almost glow; the blood a dull reddish-brown in contrast and the scars more visible than they should be. It used to be smooth and tanned and unblemished; a blank sheet that he wanted to fill with whispered words written through reverent touches.

_Now somebody else's fingers are touching what you've never (always) thought of as yours._

She's lost weight too, and his hands hover; so many things are wrong with this picture, and he doesn't know where to start. He doesn't know how to start. He doesn't know what to do.

_She seems to know this already._

"I am okay, Tony. Really"

It's not so convincing when she's wincing between words, but he wants to believe her _oh_ _so much_ he almost does.

He leans back against the wall, glancing at her warily.

"You sure?"

"What do you think they are doing right now?"

She changes the subject, and he has the grace to let her.

"Well, McGeek's probably all panicked - stuttering, stressing - the usual probie behaviour. $20 says he running some computer search right now. Gibbs'll be... well, lets just say I'm almost glad I'm here and not with him. Abs... god, worried as hell. Doing her best to find us though. Probably broke her Caf Pow record. And Ducky'll be as calm as ever. Bet none of them have slept since we've been gone"

She laughs. He likes it.

"When we get back, we will have to take them all out to dinner"

"Oh, or we could have a movie night! There's this new film I've been wanting to see, it's called-"

He stops off her look.

"Or dinner would be good"

She laughs again, then sobers.

"They will find us, right?"

"Of course" a little too quick "It's_ Gibbs_"

_You're not lying, you know he'll find you, you just don't know when._

"Any minute now he'll be breaking down that door."

She stares at it. She sighs.

She turns from the door, and he is taken aback by the tone of her eyes; serious and hungry for something she seems to think he can give.

"Tell me about you"

"What?"

"About you. Anything. Everything."

_In case... Just in case._

"You already know loads about me"

"Do I?"

"We're partners"

She sighs, again, seems she is doing that a lot lately. Breathing out hope she never had to begin with, and replacing it with something from here that he doesn't want her to have.

"Did not answer the question"

"Okay" he says, encouraged by her patient lips and curious eyes. "Okay" Nothing left to lose. Except, of course, for her.

_Everything left to lose._

And so he tells her about it all, his life, about girls whose names he can't remember and friends he always will. She does not judge, just listens, with this little half-smile on her face and it is so natural he swears they've been here before.

He tells her - in a tight voice and between tears he will not cry - about his mothers death.

Shy fingers search for his and take his hand gently.

When he tells her about his father disowning him she squeezes tenderly, and offers - in all seriousness - to kill him.

He laughs, feels like something heavy has gone from his chest.

"That's okay"

Heart speeds up, each beat sounding like a noise he's heard from her.

"But thanks anyway"

And then it is her turn. She doesn't look at him, but at the floor, and her voice remains neutral the whole time.

She tells him of her childhood, of Israel, and her memories are a sharp mix of playing in the hot streets with friends and looking into her fathers cold eyes whilst he hands her a gun. Of crying over Tali and of laughing with Ari.

Her life comes together like pieces of a jigsaw puzzle or shards from a broken mirror and he is entranced.

He doesn't know what to do and so he lets go of her hand, wraps an arm around her shoulders, pulls her close and presses his lips to her curls.

She looks up at him, and his gesture seems to have changed something. She glows golden, her form softens, and her eyes unwind.

_You gulp down the image, the accompanying feeling. You never want to forget this. What she can be when you pull her away from the death, from the anger, from the hurt._

When the door opens again she is still folded into him, and when he reaches down to help her up, she presses her lips to his cheek.

_The next three hours are a blur of burning skin and piercing pain and a distant, weak voice, which you will later realise was your own, desperately repeating "PleaseDon'tHurtHer" "PleaseDon'tHurtHer" "PleaseDon'tHurtHer"_

* * *

Please leave a review :)


	6. Chapter 6

I usually try to reply individually to reviews, but have been really busy lately with exams etc, so thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

* * *

_And you're begging him not to stop, still_.

---------------

They've spent a week - a goddamn week - not sleeping, not eating, just searching.

Seven days. One hundred and sixty eight hours. Ten thousand and eighty minutes. Six million, four thousand, eight hundred seconds.

Looking for clues, for locations, for anything, for them, and finally they find the warehouse; thirty minutes out of Washington and completely abandoned.

Gibbs breaks his personal best time driving there, and McGee doesn't even notice.

_You honestly didn't know that it was all tragically pointless. You were always going to be too late, no matter when you arrived._

---------------

_And you've been telling him yes before he even thought to ask._

_---------------_

This time, when he cuts the bonds, discarding them like limp dolls, he pauses in the doorway to make them a promise. Not a threat. Not a joke. Merely a fact.

_You already know these people will not reason, will not bargain, and have only blood in their eyes and are hungry only for fear._

In an hour he'll be back. In an hour he'll start taking things from Ziva - no, not a metaphor - and he won't let her die. And Tony will watch. And then it will be his turn.

_She has begun to tremble opposite you. Suddenly you want to vomit._

The clock reads two.

---------------

She's in his arms, now.

In his arms and shaking, although if either are ever asked it's out of cold rather than fear.

"Gibbs will be here soon, surely?"

"Of course" he breathes into her hair.

_You ask for reassurance he cannot give but does anyway, and later you will deny the small voice and he will deny the searching pause._

**---------------**

He stokes her arm as she rests weakly against him, flitting between consciousness and dreams. He eyes the clock.

Fourty two minutes, thirty seven seconds.

_All that is left you think. And oh, you think, there should be more. Yes, there should be more._

So he turns her around and kisses her like he thinks it'll make a difference.

Slow and soft then hard and fast.

_His lips taste of tears, and he smells like memories that are not yours._

"Sorry" and he shows weakness; proud and ashamed and so-not-apologetic.

She's already on top of him, desire replacing fear.

"Ziva" he breathes from under her, and it sounds like a secret, a promise, a wish. No longer Jean-Paul, no longer Sophie, and there is nothing fake about it.

She is warm and he can feel the blood pulsing through her veins- through his veins - can hear her heart beat erratically, can see the fear behind her eyelids.

_And she still tasted sweet beneath the bitterness you always suspected was there._

---------------

Her body is warm, curled against him now, around him now, drowning out the sound of screams and the scent of blood.

"Tony?"

"Yeah?"

"Do you know what this reminds me of?"

He shakes his head and she feels it rather than sees it.

"That movie. You know the one. Really bad horror film. You made us all watch it last Halloween. Erm, Axe, yes?"

"I think you mean Saw"

You don't think you'll ever grow tired of correcting her speech; of the way her accent comes on thicker and her face scrunches up in cute concentration whilst she searches for the word or phrase.

"Yes. That is the one. That was a terrible movie. And I suspect McGee still has nightmares."

_And you're laughing even as her heart starts to slow._

---------------

She looks at the clock.

Eleven minutes, sixteen seconds.

There are so many words they never said; "Iloveyou" "Imissyou" "Ihateyou" "Iwantyou" and other things that get lost in translation.

They had left the table by accident, or maybe not. Tony had looked it over once they had gone; found nothing remotely useful to take down all three of them with, except a gun, which he told her only had two bullets.

She never thought to question this, and never knew what she was leaving him with. A white lie, he'd tell her if he could, and if she could, she'd disagree.

_And he's thinking he's failed whilst you crown him your hero._

---------------

The cell is cold, his body sore, the floor uncomfortable. Her hand is soft and light in his.

Her ragged breathing has become almost pacifying.

"Ziva?"

"Hmmm?" Sleepy and innocent, rumpled eyes and golden skin.

_Oh god. Oh god._

"Nothing"

_"Everything"_

_---------------_

Two minutes, fourty six seconds.

_Please. You don't know who you're asking. Gibbs. God. Neither. Both. _

_Please. You can hear the desperation in your voice even though you never say the word._

_Please._

He owes more than he can give back to her, and has no more time left in which to try.

_---------------_

_And, so, now, I will just leave you with these images._

---------------

This time Gibbs listens to his gut, and does not let McGee leave his side.

They follow the dried blood trial through tunnels, and with each turn the walls get closer and the air gets thicker.

When McGee squints, the red smears almost look like paint. It smells like copper though, and everything is far too quiet.

_You know this is the room before you open the door._

Straight from a horror film; chains and electric pads, bloody handprint on the wall - small size indicating Ziva - and a tooth on the floor later identified as Tony's.

Gibbs' stomach churns whilst McGee swallows loudly.

They are in the corner. Tony with his back to the wall, Ziva with her back against his chest. His arms far too tight around her waist. Blood flowing through her hair to pool on his lap.

Gibbs wonders who knew first - that it was always going to end like this. - or if it was at the same time; a desperate touch, a desolate look. He imagines Tony ignored it. Laughed and quoted movies and all the while cold dread spread through him like the Plague. Ziva would have been different. Would have fought just as hard, but accepted it with a quiet resolution just a little sooner. Sometimes he resents that.

_Later, Ducky will tell you that her leg was broken, that she couldn't have run. That they didn't have enough bullets to kill their captors and they knew it. That they were dizzy and weak from blood loss, that even with weapons they couldn't have fought. That they must have been told something was going to happen, that Tony wouldn't have done it if there had been another way._

_And you'll be shaking your head whilst trying too hard to understand._

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Please review! One more chapter left, which should make things more clear. Sorry about the depressing ending, but I am planning to write something a lot lighter (still TIVA) after I've finished this.


	7. Chapter 7

Thanks so much to everyone who reviewed the last chapter!

* * *

_And you think "this may just be heartbreaking"._

_--------------_

Abby and Ducky are waiting impatiently for them in the bullpen.

One look at Gibbs' blank face and McGee's trembling hands is all it takes.

_They're dead, you think. And oh so young. And oh so in love._

Gibbs holds Abby as she begins to fall apart, and Ducky and McGee just exchange a silent look that says it all.

Later, McGee and Abby sit together in her lab - his arm around her, her head on his shoulder - and Ducky and Gibbs stand together in autopsy.

"You sure you want to be the one to do this, Duck?"

"No" he picks up the scalpel.

"You sure you want to watch?"

"No" Gibbs does not move.

Wounds to inflict the maximum of amount of pain without killing them, and far too many to count.

_But you do, and the number will haunt you._

Ducky states that Tony is slightly better off and may have had a chance if he'd left her. Neither bother to state that it would never even have crossed his mind. Recently he seemed to live for her, it was only fitting that he died for her too.

Abby and McGee come down later; once the bodies are stored safely away and the blood washed from Ducky.

They want to know how and neither can lie to them.

Abby flinches slightly when they tell her Ziva got a bullet through her head, still not getting it.

When it comes to Tony, Ducky makes it clear that it was not forced.

"Why... why would he drink acid?!" And she is frantic, wild eyes and erratic breathing and disbelief rolls off her.

She turns to Gibbs. "That's the worst way to die. He would have been in agony!".

There is an awkward and haunting silence now, because all three men know, and she doesn't, yet, and it is probably better that way.

"They only had one bullet, Abs".

_You know with an aching certainty that Ziva was not aware of this, and are unsure of whether you regard Tony's actions as stupid or brave. _

A look of confusion crosses her face, and then there is a moment of awful clarity, consuming her in a way that is almost tangible, and she slides to the floor; rocking and mumbling into her arms.

"Why did they not even try to fight?"

_You kneel next to Abby and gather her in your arms. His voice is tight from unsaid questions that fill his throat like glass and when you look up at him you see it in his eyes, that you're both asking the same things._

"Because they could have failed. You saw the other victims, Tim"

_Because they'd have taken the risk with themselves, but never with each other._

_Because they were both too proud, too aware, for that._

_Because if they were going to die, it was sure as hell gonna be on their terms._

_Because a sharp blade and a promise of a slow and painful death can change a lot of things._

_Because. Because. Because. Soon you'll see there is no end to this._

"T.O.D?" McGee asks in a whisper, and stares at the floor when Ducky tell him with sorry words that it was around three.

They all know but no one says; they arrived at about four.

_They may have died just too early, and they may have died far too late. That is not for you to judge._

___--------------_

Now, it seems almost too easy to find them.

They leave behind evidence that Abby processes with determined hands and watering eyes, and it doesn't take Gibbs and McGee long to track them down to a cheap motel.

When they lie bruised and bloody on the floor at their feet, McGee raises his gun before Gibbs can.

"You already got to kill your Ari" he says off his look.

Later he won't regret not taking the chance to ask them why.

_Right now you're hearing bang-bang-bang and waiting for the satisfaction you're sure should be yours._

___--------------_

The funeral is beautiful, at least that's what people tell him later, as if nice weather, skilfully carved wood, and flowing words can make up for the bodies in the ground.

He is burying his agents and maybe something more.

All he can remember are Abby's wails - from between him and McGee - and the way the priest pronounced both their surnames wrong. Dye -Nozo and Dayvid.

_You are surprised and proud when McGee interrupts to correct him in a strong, steady voice, his eyes never leaving the coffins._

Gibbs and McGee both return to work the next day; an unspoken agreement that neither wants to be alone.

_The other two desks are empty when you arrive in the bullpen and it never mattered before now._

_____--------------_

Abby lies awake at night sometimes, and she can hear them arguing, laughing, flirting, talking. Words drip like honey and pool in the middle; indistinguishable from each other.

_You never were talking about Roy when you told her you can't get the knots out, and you never really hated her, it was just nice to pretend for a while._

_Now you're stuck pretending forever. _

She sleeps in a coffin; sleeps in a coffin and sleeps like the dead; like Kate, like Jenny, like Langer, like Lee.

Not like Tony. Not like Ziva.

She thinks of a girl, of slapping her face, of being slapped back, and of feeling alive.

She thinks of a dream - Tony-Ziva-gun-trigger-dead - and of dismissing it because it was so surreal. Telling herself it will never happen yet knowing she should have learned from Kate.

_You think that all is not how it seems, especially when your eyes are closed. You think that one day you'll have the courage to admit this to Gibbs._

There are new agents now, to fill the empty desks.

_You've never quite forgiven Vance for that any more than Gibbs or McGee have._

_____--------------_

Tony pulled the trigger, because she was never even supposed to be captured alive in the first place.

They wonder if she begged but doubt that she even had to ask.

_____--------------_

_And she's singing sweetly to your grave whilst you're sobbing over hers._

* * *

Please review! Again, sorry for the depressing ending, but like I said, I am working on a much lighter TIVA fic that I may post sometime soon. Thanks for reading! :)


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